“No. I bumped into him, and he tried to say he had brought you coffee, but he said it to his shoes most of the time, not me.”
Oh, my god.
I can’t stop the grin from spreading across my face.
“So, guitar class, huh?” Blair adds.
“Yup. Avery thought it was a good idea, and I kind of agree with him.”
“You already dress like a rockstar, why not act the part, too?” she asks.
“Exactly!”
Maple finishes her food in record time, and looks at me expectantly for more.
“Her brain keeps telling her she’s hungry even though she’s not,” Blair sighs. “I think it’s time we invested in a slow feeder for her.”
“Or we could just give her more,” I sigh, familiar guilt eating at me while I look into Maple’s needy eyes. “I don’t want her to be upset.”
“She’smanipulatingyou,” Blair chides. “You know this by now.”
“Yeah,” I grumble, but still frown at the cat.
“What if her stomach hurts and she can’t tell us?” I ask, knowing the question sounds ridiculous.
There’s a long moment of silence, and then Blair sighs deeply.
“We would see it in her behavior, likely. But she’s eating, using the litter box, playing, and doing all the things we look for in healthy cats.”
I nod. “Yeah, I know,” I mumble guiltily.
Everyone is tired of my useless panic by now, including me.
“Guitar class is going to be good for you, Maeve,” Blair echoes, the smallest bit of sympathy in her tone.
I grimace. “Yeah.”
If shame doesn’t swallow me whole by then, maybe embracing music can help with whatever is going on with me.
Maple, as if noticing my discomfort, nudges my hand in silent affection.
There aretwo big problems with guitar class.
One, it is much more difficult than I expected, and apparently, I know less than nothing about music.
My naïve self thought that renting the guitar from the music department of Luna Community College would be the most difficult part of the course.
Nope.
Turns out, I have to learnmusicto pass the class.
The entire first day, I don’t even pick up the guitar—instead I stare at a music staff wondering what thehellAvery got me to agree to.
That’s the first problem.
The second problem, which is arguably even bigger than my inability to understand the basics of music theory?
The professor smells like leather and sin and looks even better than his scent.
